The Stuffed Animals Are Watching
by whimsycality
Summary: Max wakes up from a nightmare to a reality far, far worse than anything he could have imagined. Written for the sin of lust for the Inferno challenge on Roswell Heaven. Dark, and crackish. Read at your own risk.


**Title:** The Stuffed Animals Are Watching  
><strong>Rating:<strong> Mature  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Unconventional, seriously unconventional, crackishly unconventional, but if I tell you, it will ruin the nightmare *cough* I mean the... surprise, right.**  
>Summary:<strong> Max wakes up from a nightmare to a reality far, far worse than anything he could have imagined. Written for the sin of Lust, for the Inferno challenge on Roswell Heaven, although a few other sins may apply.**  
>Warning:<strong> This story is tiny but twisted, and sick, and may cause nightmares (seriously, do not read lightly, it may be crack, but it is dark, effed up crack). Enjoy!**  
>Disclaimer:<strong> The characters of Roswell belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended.

**A/N:** Dedicated to the lovely ErraticHippie, who helped spark the original idea. You can send her your thanks for the mental scars ;)

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><p>He opened the window with a wave of his hand, lips curling into a disdainful smirk as the boy-king failed to even stir at the noise, or current of energy. Zan had never held his respect, in either life, but he had at least inspired a certain measure of fear in his former, in both ability, and willingness to use his power. Max on the other hand, well, it certainly wasn't his power that Nasedo found intriguing, and there was nothing to fear other than his obstinate ignorance.<p>

Stepping into the bedroom, he smiled in appreciation of his current form's grace and strength – those meddling scientists had been skilled, no denying that, with an eye for aesthetics he would not have expected. Inside their underused brains, the humans were despicable little sheep, but on the outside, the creatures definitely had their appeal, the only thing that had made the past fifty years bearable at all.

But purely human entertainments had lost their appeal, even murdering FBI agents in new and creative ways had started to pall. Lifting a hand towards the door, he sealed it with a brief burst of silver energy, repeating the motion on the window behind him, before scanning the rest of the room. One eyebrow arched as he saw two stuffed teddy bears and a stuffed alien on the book shelf to the left of the bed, black plastic eyes glinting in the faint glow of the street lamp that filtered into the room.

"Pathetic," he muttered, not without amusement, part of him wishing that he dared return the memories of his previous life to the failed experiment on the bed; Zan would be horrified at the sickeningly mundane and childish existence that his new self lived, and the knowledge that he, the guard he took such pleasure in tormenting, had seen him in that state – Nasedo shivered deliciously at the thought.

Maybe he _would_ return those memories, after he had sated himself in not-so-human pleasures. Zan would probably kill himself rather than live with the memories, and suicide would renounce his claim to the throne, even if the loyalists tried their little reincarnation stunt again. Yes, it didn't obey his orders, but then again, neither was what he was about to do, and he held no respect for Khivar either.

Moving to stand next to the bed, he lowered a hand and trailed it down the warm skin of Max's chest, humming softly under his breath. He would have his fun with the king's nubile and oh-so responsive young body, and then he would return his mind, and savor every delectable emotion of shame and horror and helpless fury.

It was going to be a _good_ day.

x

Max clenched his fists, watching helplessly as Liz ran across the desert, ran away from _him_, and fought the urge to scream as he felt the others come up behind him. Tess grabbed his arm, staring up at him with those invasive blue eyes, and he jolted awake, breathing raggedly as he fought to pull his mind away from the scene he'd been reliving every night since that day in the cave, glad that apparently this time he hadn't made any noise and woken his sister.

Isabel thought his nightmares were over what had happened in the white room, and he hadn't bothered to correct her, knowing that she would far less sympathetic over his 'pathetic Liz obsession.'

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he moved to sit up and bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling when he realized that he wasn't alone in the room. Standing over him was, himself, dark eyes shining with amusement and other things Max couldn't read. "Am…am I still dreaming?" he stammered out, flinching slightly as one hand (his hand?) reached out and grasped his shoulder in an almost caressing manner.

"A human would assume so, but you should know better," the other Max stated, one eyebrow lifting in a manner that Max had never perfected, and suddenly reality came crashing back in, a reality that was still deeply unnerving.

"What are you doing here, Nasedo?" he asked flatly, making himself hold still despite the urge to jerk away from the hand now trailing down his arm, oddly warm, and entirely disturbing.

"Did you know that I hated you?" Nasedo asked conversationally, taking another step forward into Max's personal space, who found himself frozen, unable to move or speak. "Oh yes, you were quite the egomaniacal little princeling, popular with the people despite the Council's disfavor with your ideas, and you quite enjoyed lording it over those who didn't have the power to stop you. Like your guards."

Max's eyes widened and he silently cursed, pushing with all his energy against the force holding him captive and failing utterly. "Sorry, dear boy, can't have you speaking and ordering me to stop, now can we?" Nasedo asked, smiling what Max had always secretly thought was his most charming smile, and that he now found terrifying. If he survived this, he was never smiling again, or looking in a mirror for that matter. Maybe he could have plastic surgery. Did that work on aliens?

Nasedo's silky, disturbingly familiar voice, interrupted his increasingly panicked thoughts. "Antarians have far looser views on sexuality than these primitive humans, and the guards were required to service you in more than one way." Max blanched, heart pounding so fast he thought it might explode. He willed it to beat faster, suddenly convinced that death was preferable to whatever the shapeshifter had planned.

"But you preferred to make us watch, and forbid us from seeking pleasure elsewhere," Nasedo continued relentlessly, now pushing Max back into a prone position and hovering over him with a grin of pure malice, and, to Max's horror, lust. "I however, am more merciful than you."

The shifter raised one glowing hand and the blankets, along with Max's pajama bottoms, vanished, leaving him bare and cold and numb with terror as Nasedo proceeded to remove his own clothes and crawl onto the bed, pressing against Max with a body identical to his, inch for inch.

The next words were a sibilant whisper, breathed intimately against his lips. "You will _enjoy_ this, Max, that I promise."

x

His skin was sticky with sweat and flushed with exertion, bite marks and bruises aching pleasantly and his muscles burning with the aftermath of strenuous effort. Purring in the back of his throat, Zan casually tore through the energy barrier pinning him to the bed and rolled over, pushing Nasedo back into the sheets and grinning as he felt the other man harden even as his eyes widened in fear.

"You were right, my ever loyal guard, I _did _enjoy it. And I will continue to enjoy it until the day that you have killed the last being standing between me and my throne. I will even enjoy it as I feel you die. That, _I, _promise."

Then he kissed him, sealing their lips together as the searing pulse of his energy made the other man buck helplessly in pleasure and pain.

It was going to be a _very_ good day.


End file.
